


"Make sure your husband gets the message, sweetheart.”

by ImagineRedwood



Category: Sons of Anarchy
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Death Threats, Established Relationship, F/M, Family Feels, Fear, Threats of Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-03
Updated: 2019-01-03
Packaged: 2019-10-03 06:09:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17278535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImagineRedwood/pseuds/ImagineRedwood
Summary: Request: "A Jax Teller request please? Y/N is Jax’s old lady and they have a one year old together. Y/N and the baby are at home one day and someone breaks in and threatens them. "





	"Make sure your husband gets the message, sweetheart.”

**Author's Note:**

> ***I tried to take this one in a different direction so it wasn’t the same reason for the break-in as my other stories. Obviously doesn’t follow in line perfectly with the show since it is a different storyline from the show :)

“You sure you’ll be home for dinner? I don’t want to cook and then it sits there getting cold and you have to heat it up.” 

Jax finished adjusting his kutte before walking up to you and taking you into his arms. He put one hand on the small of your back while his other hand came up to rest on the back of his son’s head as you bounced him on your hip. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to both of your foreheads, poking the tip of his son’s nose as he looked at you. 

“I’ll be home. I promise. No late night tonight. I’ll be home for dinner so we can eat together and spend the rest of the night as a family.” 

His smile was genuine as he looked at you and returned it with equal sincerity.

“Ok baby. Drive safe.” 

“I will.”

He kissed your lips and pulled away, smoothing his hand over the babies head and pointing at him. 

“You be good for mommy.” 

Your son only giggled, the same smile coming to both you and Jax’s faces. He scooped his keys up from off the counter and headed towards the door, you a few steps behind him, watching as he walked out and got onto his bike. Leaning against the doorframe, you watched as he pulled out, both you and the baby waving goodbye as he turned and drove away down the street. Closing the door, you locked both locks and adjusted your son on your hip, smiling and cooing at him as you headed towards the nursery. 

“Smells like someone needs a change huh?” 

Placing him down on the changing mat, you unbuckled his onesie and pulled it up, tucking it under his back as you blew out a breath. 

“Whew. Why couldn’t you poop like this when your dad was holding you?”

You pulled the container of baby wipes off the shelf above and popped it open, pulling out 3 wipes and laying them on top of the canister. Over in the kitchen, a noise sounded, a soft thud on the floor. You stayed quiet for a moment, listening for any other noises and relaxed some when you heard none. Even still, you rushed, pulling open the straps of the diaper and wiping him with the clean area, wiping him down as well. Just as you were fastening the straps of the new diaper, you heard it again, now able to clearly recognize the sound as a shoe scuffing on the tile of the kitchen floor. You knew the sound, Jax’s sneakers made the sound every now and then when he didn’t pick up his feet enough. But Jax was gone, already probably half way to the clubhouse, and while it wouldn’t be shocking that he had to turn around and come back because he forgot something, that Harley could never sneak in anywhere. You would’ve heard him, which meant that who ever’s shoes caught the tile wasn’t Jax, and that was a problem. 

You cursed as you realized you’d left your cell on the kitchen table. Even if you’d had it, Jax probably wouldn’t have heard it over the rumble of the engine. Holding your son tightly to your chest, you quietly snuck into the master bedroom. You kissed him on the forehead and cradled him to you, your heart pounding. It was at this moment that you wished you hadn’t laughed at Jax when he said he was going to put a Glock in the bathroom sink cabinet. It would’ve come in pretty handy right about now. Even still, getting into a shootout with your son in your arms wasn’t going to happen. Sure you could tuck him somewhere safe, but what if he started to cry and they got to him. That wasn’t happening either. If someone was going to take your son, it would have to be from your cold dead fingers. 

So you stayed quiet, knowing that if you kept him cuddled, he was likely to keep quiet. Your nerves went into overdrive though as you heard someone begin to talk in the hallway, the hallway right outside of the bathroom you were hiding in. 

“I know you’re here mom. Jackson left by himself, and the baby bottle on the kitchen table is nice and warm so I know that you’re hiding in here somewhere. Why don’t you go ahead and come out and we can talk. We won’t hurt you, I promise. I give you my word.” 

If you didn’t have to be so quiet, you would’ve scoffed. As if a person that would break into the home of a mother while she’s alone with her baby would be a quality person. You maintained your silence as your son began to fidget in your grasp, no doubt hungry for that bottle on breastmilk that you’d left out on the table. Breastfeeding him now to keep him quiet was an option, but the last thing you wanted to was to get caught, breasts exposed no less. You were sure that wouldn’t bring out the best in whoever was in your home. You rocked him gently, running a hand over his head and face but he kept with the fussing, grimacing more and more until his cry wailed out, echoing in the tiny bathroom and out into the hallway of the deathly silent house. Making up your mind, you held your son tightly to your shoulder and grabbed hold of the clothing iron next to you. You took a gripped it tightly, ready to put up the fight of your life as soon as they opened the door to the bathroom closet. It only took a couple seconds for that to happen and you were more than ready, bashing the iron into the face that popped its way into your vision as the door swung open. There was a sickening sound that resulted but you didn’t have time to be bothered with that. 

You raced out of the bathroom and down the hallway towards you and Jax’s bedroom. If you could just make it to your purse, you could get your gun and put an end to all of this. You didn’t make it that far though as someone stepped out of the guest room suddenly and wrapped their arms around you from behind, a piercing scream coming from your lips. You thought fast, throwing your head back at them with all the force you had, your vision going a little fuzzy around the edges with the impact and you broke free of their grip. They cursed behind you and just as you were at your nightstand to grab your purse, you found it missing. 

Turning softly you knew you were out of options and placed your son onto the bed, your body standing in front of him, shielding him. As you turned back around, the man screamed at you, holding a hand to the front of his ski mask where the shape of his nose was at an unfamiliar angle while the other brought a gun up. 

“Stop!”

He aimed the gun at you, hand shaking in anger as another man stepped into the room, immediately placing his hand on the arm of the other one and pushing him to lower his gun. 

“Pointing a gun at a woman with a baby behind her?”

“This bitch broke my fucking nose!”

The other man, clearly the one in charge held his hands up to you, in a show of both peace and that he had no weapon. 

“Easy. We’re just here to talk.” 

You stayed quiet, your chest heaving in both fear and anger. 

“Now we’re here to talk to you and get you to pass along a message, but you’re making it real hard for me to keep my word about us not hurting you.”

You stayed silent, not wanting to take any risks if they really were not planning on hurting you. The one with the broken nose huffed and shoved his gun back into his jeans, his anger translating perfectly, even though the small holes for his eyes in the mask. He kept them trained on you, and his hand on the stock of the gun, just waiting for you to make the wrong move. The other one stepped forward and kept his hands in front where you could see them. 

“Now we’re here to talk to you. As the Queen of the mother charter, we know that you have some pull on your husband and how he runs things. We’re here to make sure you tell him that the gun trade for Southern California needs to be left to the Triad, and that we will be the only suppliers that the Sons will be purchasing from. We’ve already tried to convey that message but Jax didn’t really hold up his end of the deal, so now we had to step it up. Now a lot of my higher-ups thought that painting the inside of this house with your blood would’ve been a better message. I managed to sway them. I won’t do it again. So if you want to continue living this pretty little life in peace and safety with your son and your husband, then you need to make sure that Jackson understands this deal. Otherwise,”

The man paused, his mask moving with his face in a way that told you he was smiling. 

“I’m sure these walls would look beautiful in a nice, rich red shade.” 

He was quiet for a moment, letting his words sink in as your son’s cries intensified. With that, he lifted his hands up once more and began to slowly back out of the room, bringing his partner with him. As he passed the doorway, he pointed at you, a warning tone to his voice as he spoke again. 

“We found you and snuck in once. We can, and we will do it again. Make sure your husband gets the message sweetheart.” 

And just like that they were out of the room, leaving the house as you quickly picked up your son and rocked him, looking out the window until you saw them both walk out and get into a getaway vehicle, driving off. You blew out a shaky breath and quickly went out of the room, looking desperately for your purse. You found it in the kitchen, right beside your phone and the babies milk, now cold. Putting him down into the highchair and grabbing both the gun from your purse and the phone, you dialed Jax’s number, not even giving him the chance to say hi as you started speaking once the line picked up. 

“You need to get home, now.”


End file.
